Full Contact
by Lemon Crisis
Summary: Dantia works as a volunteer in Brazil, but when a funny looking branch causes her to crash, she gets the chance to go places no other Ooman has, but can she adjust to her new life? Please R&R. Rating for later chapters.
1. Funny Looking Branch

**Full Contact****  
****Chapter One – A Funny Looking Branch**

**DISCLAIMER - I do not own predator, but my characters are © to me. I do not make any money from this fic, either.  
**

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_**_It was night-time in the rainforest, and the noisiness of the day had only subsided a little. Water drops from the recent storm still clung to the lush vegetation and the forest smelt damp. A lone Yautja was out, returning to his ship after a successful day hunting. He jogged along confidently, uncloaked. His natural pitch black colouring and black armour making him seem a part of the night himself._

_'Interesting hunting here...'_

Mor'che pounded through the damp jungle that was so similar to the ones back on his beloved Homeworld. Several assorted skulls and other random body parts swung from the belt around his toned waist. As he ran, the glaive slung over his left shoulder caught the low hanging vegetation, sending showers of rainbow water droplets everywhere. Some landed on his exposed upper arms, giving them a glossy sheen. He missed the weight of his plasma caster on his other shoulder, but it had malfunctioned on his last hunt and he had yet to fix it.  
_'That's something I really need to do soon' _he thought, _'Luckily I'm not hunting more serious prey and can do without it for the time being.'_  
He growled to himself – truth be told he hated it when equipment decided to break, that meant he had to fix it and he wasn't terribly patient with fiddly things like that. He was more likely to get annoyed with it and break it even more.

He paused for a moment, his large feet sinking slightly in the spongy forest floor. Grinning to himself behind his intricate mask, he took a deep lungful of the night air. Now this was what he lived for, the solo hunting of the Blooded Warrior. Being able to go where he liked to find worthy prey, being able to come and go from his Homeworld as he pleased, and lastly having his own ship to allow him to do these things.

His ship was where he was headed back to now, and he began to jog again, his black armour flexing with every move like a second skin.  
_'I'll be glad to get out of this armour' _He vaulted easily over a fallen tree, long dreadlocks rippling, _'as light as it is, I've been wearing it all day and it's starting to get uncomfortable, plus I could REALLY do with a bath.' _He briefly touched the various grisly trophies adorning his belt _'I need to get these cleaned up too.'_  
Putting on a burst of speed, Mor'che prepared to run the remaining distance to where he had hidden his ship.

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Dantia had to drive through the centre of the forest on her way home from work. She'd finished late today and had had several things she needed to do before she could leave the village. She sighed and pushed back a strand of frizzed red hair from her face. She'd put it up in an effort to control it, but every now and then a piece would still come pinging out of the band and wave mockingly in front of her eyes. She shifted slightly forward in the driver's seat, unsticking her back from the worn leather. _'It's been a long hot day, my hairs a mess, I'm all sticky, my shirt has creased and I just want to get home.'_

She frowned, _'I hate linen. Horrible stuff, creases way too much. Whoever invented it ought to be shot.'_ She chuckled quietly, turning her attention to the road again. The huge trees blurred past on either side as her Jeep sped along the dirt road. Suddenly conscious of the speed she was doing, Dantia eased her foot off the accelerator a bit. The roads were notoriously bad, and it wouldn't do to go hitting a pothole in the dark.

She flexed her long hands on the wheel and flicked a glance at her watch.  
_'Still ages to go yet and its already gone 10.'_

Dantia leaned back again in her seat with a sigh and thought about the children she taught. Her favourite was Sandro, a little 7 year old boy with the most cheeky smile ever. He was a quick learner and she was impressed with his easy grasp of English. As she'd left the village in her Jeep this evening he'd come running out and yelled after her " Be safe _mestra_!" She'd tooted her horn back at him and he'd waved, laughing.

Dantia peered out of her windscreen at the giant trees lining the sides of the road. _'Why does it always look so creepy at night? At least it's not dead quiet though, that would really freak me out.'_  
As she was looking out ahead at the trees, she caught a small movement in one of them off to the left hand side.  
_'A monkey?' _she thought. _'No, too big to be a monkey.'_  
It looked almost human, just... bigger. A small pang of fear clutched at her stomach, _'What is it?'_ She found herself suddenly reluctant to get any closer.  
_'Don't be stupid,'_ she told herself _'it's probably just a funny shaped branch or something.'_  
Quelling her irrational fear, she put her foot firmly down on the pedal, intending to get as far away as possible from the strange looking blob of a silhouette. However, the funny shaped branch had other ideas – without warning, it leapt down into the centre of the road, only metres away from her Jeep!

_'What the...'_

Dantia gave a startled squeak and instinctively slammed on the breaks, tugging on the steering wheel to try to avoid hitting whatever it was that had a death wish. She caught a glimpse of it in the headlights before the Jeep veered offroad. It was definitely humanoid, that was for sure.  
_'A 9ft humanoid?!'_

She didn't have time to think about the strange creature as the Jeep bounced through the sparse undergrowth - getting out of this situation as intact as possible became the main priority. Cursing, Dantia threw her arms up over her head, protecting her face. Her world became just a series of jolting movements.  
_'Shit, I hope it doesn't roll... or I'm seriously screwed'_  
She was roughly tossed to one side as the Jeep clipped something. Then there was a crunch, and everything faded away into blackness.

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Mor'che heard the ooman vehicle coming long before he saw it, and he grinned to himself behind his mask.

_'Time for a bit of entertainment...'_

Positioning himself in a tree on the edge of the road, he waited. It wasn't long before the strange vehicle came into sight. With his heat vision activated, Mor'che could see there was just the one ooman, even through the fierce red of the hot engine. He shifted slightly on the mossy branch, coming further out so that his slightly crouched silhouette would be visible. After a moment, the vehicle accelerated, and he chuckled darkly.

When it got a bit closer, he launched himself from the branch and landed square in the middle of the road, right in front of the oncoming vehicle. A split second later, just as he heard the squeal of breaks, he leaped up into a tree on the opposite side. He chittered to himself in amusement, retreating into the canopy. _'Oomans are so easy to spook.'_

As he turned around, grinning, he saw that the ooman had tried to avoid hitting him by swerving away. Unfortunately, he seemed to have lost control and the vehicle had come 

off the road, disappearing into the forest. Mor'che hadn't anticipated that. His grin quickly faded.  
"Pauk!" he swore. His childish prank had potentially injured an ooman who had posed no threat to him. It was the sort of immature thing a young blood would do - a warrior like him should know better.

Mentally berating himself, Mor'che quickly followed the trail left by the rampant vehicle on the forest floor and found it up against a tree, most of its front crushed in. Glass was scattered all around. The headlights were still on – if only just – and it appeared the occupant had been knocked unconscious by the force of the impact. A few stray leaves floated down from the high canopy above, having been violently dislodged.

Mor'che cocked his head and sighed to himself as he considered the possibilities. He could leave the ooman to fend for itself, but it had been a nasty crash and it was a long way from the nearest ooman settlement. Plus there was the unavoidable fact that Mor'che was the one who had caused this mess in the first place.  
It was dishonourable to harm a weak or defenceless creature, and he'd gone and done that, albeit unintentionally. He growled softly, unhappy at the situation he'd just managed to put himself in.  
_'C'jit! Now what am I supposed to do... the only thing I can really do is make sure it recovers.'_

Mor'che padded carefully over to the vehicle, glass crunching softy underfoot, and peered in, stooping so that his dreadlocks swung round his face.  
"Pauk!" He swore again. The ooman was female. That made it all even worse.

_'Fine,' _he thought _'I'll take her back to my ship, patch her up and drop her off at the nearest settlement, then I can forget this ever happened.'_

He had just curled his large taloned fingers around the handle of the driver door when the first projectile struck him square in the back.

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******To Be Continued...**

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Hope you enjoyed!**

******Please R&R, constructive criticism always welcome (nobody's perfect).  
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	2. The Rescue

**Full Contact**

**Chapter Two – The Rescue**

**Disclaimer**** - I do not own Predator. The characters in this story are my own though, and **© **to me. I do not make any money from this fic either, so no suing please! XD  
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He had just curled his large taloned fingers around the handle of the vehicle door when the first projectile struck him square in the back.

Mor'che snarled, ringed dreadlocks whipping as he spun around, searching for the culprit of the dishonourable attack. As he did so, another projectile smacked him straight in his mask, making a wet splatting sound as it impacted. It took Mor'che a moment to realise what exactly was being fired at him as sticky green liquid ran down the front of his mask, dripping onto his broad chest.

Roaring in anger, Mor'che wiped the back of a clawed hand across his mask, removing the offending pulped fruit and flicking it off to one side in one fluid movement. A sticky residue now covered the metal of his mask, tarnishing the shiny black, and cold syrupy juice tricked through the fine holes of his mesh vest. He was fast losing patience with his unseen attacker.

_'C'jit' _He thought, '_it's going to take forever to clean this mess off.'_

As he scanned the surrounding trees with his heat vision on, he found the culprits. A group of monkeys had assembled on one of the lower branches of the tree the Ooman vehicle had rebounded off. They seemed to be rather agitated – several of them were bouncing up and down. Once they saw they'd been spotted, disorderly screaming emanated from their direction, accompanied by more furious leaping around. Mor'che realised they had probably been sleeping when the vehicle had clipped the tree. Relaxing, he chittered to himself in amusement. They were no threat.

As he began to turn his back on them, he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his vision. One of the monkeys was just lifting an arm, another fruit clutched in its primitive hand. Growling a warning, Mor'che glared at the primate, daring it to piss him off. The monkey, oblivious to the warning promptly proceeded to lob the fruit at Mor'che. One of the Yautja's mandibles twitched in annoyance, and he deftly caught the fruit in mid air. Resisting the urge to close his fist around the fruit and crush it, Mor'che instead threw it back at the monkey. Hard. The unfortunate creature was knocked off its haunches by the impact, landing sprawled on the mossy branch, stunned. Sticky fruit juices matted the fur on its forehead, looking almost like blood in the limited light.

The rest of the monkeys scattered, screeching in alarm, leaving their twitching comrade to its fate.

Mor'che snorted as he turned his attention back to the Ooman. He curled his fingers around the handle of the vehicle door and wrenched it open. It had buckled in the crash and came off in his hand entirely. It was effortlessly tossed aside, skidding across the forest floor, exposing a dark trail as it scuffed up the thin litter.

Reaching in with one hand while the other was gripping the topside of the Jeep, Mor'che grasped the Ooman by her shoulder. His hand seemed huge in comparison to the tiny creature. He gave a gentle tug, and when she didn't budge he peered closer. She appeared to be held in place by some kind of restraint strap. He could also see that she had covered her face with her arms for protection, and they had taken the full force of the impact.

_'They're going to hurt when she wakes up.' _He thought. '_Quick thinking though, it saved her face.'_

Wasting no time, he flexed his wrist and his blades slid out, cold and gleaming. They cut through the strap as if it was made of paper.

Reaching in again, Mor'che gripped the little Ooman's shoulders and gave another tug. This time she budged, and he managed to pull her out, her legs sliding loosely over the leather seat. As gently as possible, Mor'che slipped one brawny arm under her shoulders and another behind her knees. She lay limp in his arms and he paused suddenly.

_'Ok... now what?'_

He glanced down at her, so vulnerable as she lay there. She weighed nothing to him.

_'Well I can't leave her here in the middle of nowhere can I?' _he thought, then sighed, cursing his own foolishness again. '_Looks like the only thing for it is to help after all.'_

Blinking suddenly, he looked closer at her face. There seemed to be a small piece of metal sticking out of her chin, just below her lower lip. It wasn't something from the crash, though – it was a 

smooth round ball. Mor'che grunted and shook his head, '_Oomans do strange things.'_

He shifted the Ooman slightly in his arms. It would be hard running whilst holding her like that, even as agile as he was. Truth be told, he was tempted to sling her unconscious form over his shoulder, but he didn't know the full extent of her injuries yet and doing so could inadvertently damage her even more. Turning, he began the trek back to where his ship lay cloaked. Kicking off at an easy run, he loped along, trying not to make it too bumpy. '_The last thing I need is her waking up before she's back among her own,' _he thought, and grimaced. '_That would cause no end of trouble.' _He quickly lengthened his stride, not about to let that happen.

As Mor'che ran he shielded the little Ooman from the odd stray piece of vegetation that whipped past. Apart from the heat, that was one of the things he liked about jungles; the canopy was always nice and high up. No low growing trees or thick vegetation to impede his movements. The only difficult thing was finding a place to land his ship in the dense forest. He'd got lucky this time, finding a spot which had been cleared by the Oomans some time ago.

He increased his pace as he neared the area where his ship was concealed, eager to be rid of this Ooman as soon as he could before any more trouble was caused. Although he had to admit to himself he was curious about her. He'd never seen an Ooman female up close properly before, and this was an ideal opportunity to study one.

_'Maybe if she could come with me for a time...' _Then he growled at himself '_What am I thinking? I'm a warrior, not a pauking scientist. Besides, she'd probably freak out if she woke up and saw me.' _

He recalled his older sister A'wenu teasing him when he was just a pup. '_Little Mor'che thinks he's a hunter!' _she would say, pinning him down with her superior size and poking him in his ribs, her talons making him wince involuntarily, '_but I think you're too inquisitive, you should be a scientist or something.' _Mor'che had always argued back and tried to shove her off him, but she was too big and just laughed at him.

Mor'che smiled at the memory. A'wenu had always teased him, but good-naturedly. When he had finally started his training as an unblooded youngling, she had helped him practise by sparring with him, armed and unarmed. Despite her thinking he shouldn't have chosen to be a hunter, she helped him get there none the less.

_'I miss her.'_ He realised suddenly, and huffed a bit. He'd see her again when he next visited his Homeworld. '_Perhaps she'll have a mate'_ he mused, then chittered to himself in amusement '_she'll never find one at this rate if she keeps being so fussy.'_

Snapping out of his melancholy thoughts, Mor'che entered the small clearing where he had hidden his ship. Booted feet crunching softly on the ground, he stooped and gently laid the Ooman down on the floor with her back resting against the trunk of a tree. As she lay there oblivious to her surroundings, nestled between two huge tree roots, she looked so small and fragile. Tearing his fascinated eyes away from the Ooman, he pressed a couple of buttons on his wrist computer and his ship's cloak melted away, revealing a smallish black craft. Mor'che pressed another button and a ramp slid smoothly down to the ground.

Stooping again, he carefully scooped up the unconscious Ooman. Her head lolled in the crook of his arm, and he could feel her light breath against his skin.

_'I could kill this little Ooman with one bare hand,' _he thought, '_it's a wonder their species manages to survive, even with their intelligence.' _But even as the thought formed in his head he dismissed it, having hunted Oomans before on several occasions he knew they were not to be taken lightly.

Padding over to the ramp, he scented the air before ascending. '_Smells like rain'_ he mused. In the distance there was a rumble of thunder. Another storm was on the way.

Mor'che ducked into his ship under the low hatchway. Straightening on the other side, he was met by the cold silver metal of his ship's innards. Pivoting on his heel, he extended a clawed finger and lifted his Ooman-filled arms until he could stab the hatch control button. With a hiss, the ramp retracted and the hatch slid closed.

Now shut off from the encroaching storm, Mor'che proceeded down the barren corridor, his boots clomping on the metal grill of the floor. Passing by a couple of plain unmarked doors, he came to a halt in front of the third. Again he extended a finger and lifted his arms so he could poke the button for this door, too. It swished open, revealing a smallish room. Sparsely furnished, it contained only a large metal table and some storage lockers containing medical supplies.

Stalking in, Mor'che placed the Ooman gently down on the table. Being Yautja-sized, it dwarfed 

her small frame. His glaive was unfastened and leaned up against one of the walls. He reached for his mask, then paused. '_It's better if I leave it on, just in case. The last thing I need is a freaking out Ooman'_

Working quickly now, Mor'che began to check for injuries. Running firm hands along her body, he first checked for any broken bones or obvious wounds. There was a cut on one of her arms where she had shielded her face, and since both forearms had taken quite an impact they would be very stiff and painful for a few days. Apart from that and the fact that she would have mild concussion, she was fine on the outside. Mor'che went over to one of the lockers and pulled it open, reached in, and withdrew a medical scanner.

_'This probably won't work on her, but I'll try it anyway_. _Although we're physically different, the basic principle is still the same.'_

He let out a wry chuckle, '_Perhaps A'wenu was right after all.'_

Glancing down at the scanner, he pressed a few buttons and tweaked the settings slightly. Frowning faintly, he held the flashing scanner over the Ooman. After a few seconds, it beeped a negative. Nodding to himself, Mor'che switched it off and put it back in the locker.

_'Thats one lucky Ooman.'_

Satisfied she wasn't about to die on him, he relaxed a bit. He had determined that the metal in her chin was indeed some kind of piercing, and he peered at it now. His eyes wandered and he noticed she had a scar, it was a pale silver line, barely noticeable, running from the middle of her right cheek to the edge of her jaw. If he hadn't have been looking so closely at her he probably wouldn't have noticed it.

_'Must be an old scar, its faded quite a bit.'_ He thought, and sighed. '_I really should drop her off somewhere...'_

But surprisingly he found himself reluctant to do so. He continued to stare at her, noticing how pale her skin was, and how a dusting of darker sprinkles covered her cheekbones. She really was quite short, too.

_'Not much meat on her bones either, she looks weak, perhaps she needs a bit of feeding up?'_

Still staring, he found himself almost willing her to wake up. He'd never interacted with an Ooman before, unless you counted killing them of course, and he had found himself infinitely curious about them. Oomans were considered to be one of the best prey, but only because of a combination of their intelligence, quick learning and their primitive technology, not their physical strength. In reality they were quite puny beings - especially the females.

As he was watching her, he noticed that she was beginning to stir. He swore to himself,

_'Pauk! I wasted too much time!' _

Mor'che mentally smacked himself in the face _'If Oomans come into contact with Yautja outside of combat there can only be trouble, what was I thinking?'_

He could only stand there as her eyes opened groggily, resigned to the fact that she _would_ see him, and yes, he _would_ have to deal with the consequences.

He groaned inwardly as her vague and unfocused eyes slowly took in her surroundings, and then landed on him. She blinked several times, obviously having some difficulty focusing. He looked back at her grey eyes through his mask, trying not to move, some crazy part of his brain hoping that perhaps she wouldn't see him and just fall back into unconsciousness. His hopes were in vain, though. Her eyes widened suddenly and she gawked at him, her confusion evident. That quickly changed to fear however, when she focused a bit better. She shakily sat up, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth.

Mor'che braced himself. He had only heard an Ooman female scream once, and it was not at all pleasant.

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**Please R&R! Or I'll tell Mor'che to hunt you down.**

_**Mor'che - **_**grins and begins to sharpen his glaive...**

**If you spot any mistakes too, please pm me, I'll appreciate it.**


	3. Guest

_**Ahem ... Sorry about the delay guys, but here it is.**_

_**Full Contact**_

_**Chapter Three**_

_**DISCLAIMER - I do not own predator, but my characters are © to me.**_

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Dantia was having the strangest dream. She was floating in a vast, empty space, enveloped in velvet darkness. Every so often random colours and sounds would invade her senses, making her wince with the sudden vividness, and then she'd be left hanging in the blackness once again.

After a while, she began to feel sensation in the body she had forgotten she had. A dull ache started in both of her arms, quite the contrast from the floaty nothingness she had been feeling so far. Bits and pieces of what had happened slowly filtered into her detached mind. As the information returned to her, she concluded that she was most probably not dead, and just unconscious. Once she realised this, it was like a switch had been flicked to 'on' as feeling suddenly began to flood back, swamping her as she was pulled back to the real world by an invisible force.

As Dantia came to, she realised that she was lying on something rather cold. Then there were her arms. A fiery pain burned in them, coupled with a deep throbbing that went as deep as the bone. Her head felt like it was being squashed under a huge rock. Overall, she felt like shit.

Managing to pry reluctant eyes open, she squinted at what appeared to be a ceiling of some kind, which she concentrated on, striving to bring it's grey surface into focus. Still somewhat detached from the real world, Dantia pondered the meaning of the existence of a ceiling. She decided that it meant she'd been rescued.

Turning her tender-feeling head slowly, Dantia struggled to see the rest of the room she was apparently in. Wherever she was, it was painfully bare. Her fuzzy sight finally landed on what appeared to be a humanoid figure to her left, and she blinked several times, trying to bring it into clarity. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving. Slowly her eyes cleared, and she could see it better. It looked familiar. She blinked some more. Her eyes widened suddenly as she realised exactly what it was.

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_'Predator!'_Her mind screamed at her. _'But how is that possible? They're just in the movies right?'_

Yet she couldn't deny that there was one right next to her. Then the realisation hit her. _'That was the thing that made me crash, too!'_It certainly wasn't a stunt any human could've performed – jumping around like it had friggin' springs attached to its feet.

Dantia gawked at the predator for a few more seconds before deciding it was a good time to panic. She managed to sit up, feeling weak and shaky, and opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out. So she simply sat there, her mouth hanging open as her brain struggled to process this drastic new development. Eventually she managed to omit a small, pathetic sounding squeak. The predator still hadn't moved, and she began to wonder if it was even alive.

_'Well, if you're not gonna move, then I'm getting outta here.' _It seemed her survival instincts had decided to show up, and she grimaced – better late than never. Moving as quickly as she physically could, which in her current state wasn't very fast at all, Dantia tried to lever herself off the table with her arms. She gasped as lances of red-hot pain shot up them from fingertips to shoulders. Biting her lip, she changed tactics as she began to feel light-headed. She used the rubber heels of her boots to pull her legs to the side of the table and off it. Wiggling her body, she positioned her bum on the edge and her green combats were pulled up as she slid off the side. Unfortunately it was quite a drop to the floor, and she belatedly realised the table was probably made for predator-sized things. Her legs jarred as she fell further than anticipated, and she winced. Steadying herself, she looked up and over at the predator. Now that she was down off the table, she could see just how tall it was. It still hadn't budged though, and that confused her.

_'Maybe its going to wait for me to get to the door and suddenly rip out my spine or something...' _She blanched at the mental image that brought up, and quickly shoved it out of her mind. Forcing her unsteady legs to move, she wobbled over towards what appeared to be a doorway of some kind, passing the predator cautiously on the way. Before she could reach it however, a large hand fell on her shoulder, and the predator it belonged to let out a series of clicks and rattles.

_'Well, at least I'm still in possession of my spine..' _

Taking a deep breath, Dantia turned around to face the predator. Well, it's broad ebony chest anyway. Her knees wobbled threateningly and she quickly grabbed onto the nearest solid object, which happened to be the predator's rather large arm, simultaneously wincing at the fresh stabs of pain it brought and cursing her reflexes. The predator tensed immediately as she touched it. Swallowing nervously, Dantia glanced up at its face, which was quite a way above her own head and hidden behind a foreboding black mask.

He had made no other move since he had restrained her, and appeared to be just studying, waiting for her to make the next move. Dantia stood there, helpless. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest._'What to do now?' _

Her eyes wandered over his mask as she decided what to do, taking in every detail. They traced the elegant patterns etched into the black material, very tribal-like, and the colour of fresh blood. The markings spiralled up the sides of his mask and ended at the temples. In the centre of the forehead was a different mark. It looked like a crescent moon with a single spiral nestled in its curve, so the whole thing formed a circlular shape. Where his mouth would be, there were fangs engraved in the same blood-red colour. The mask itself extended into what looked like a crest over the top of the predator's head. From behind this sprouted thick, glossy black dreadlocks, many of which were decorated with silver rings. He really was quite an intimidating sight. What was that faint sticky residue on his mask though? She caught a whiff of a sweet smelling scent... it almost smelt like... fruit?

Dantia blinked suddenly and mentally slapped herself on the face. What was she doing? There was an alien standing right in front of her, and she was just staring zombiefied at it. Concussion certainly did strange things to your survival instinct. _'I'm in no position to do anything here,' _She mused _'and he hasn't killed me...yet.' _Releasing a small sigh, she allowed herself to relax a bit and lowered her eyes, signalling to the predator that she wasn't about to try anything suicidal.

The predator clicked at her again, and lifted its free arm. Pausing as Dantia flinched slightly, he gently tapped her forehead with the tip of his talon, clicking some more. Peering up at him under lowered eyelids, Dantia could see he had cocked his head quizzically to one side, and appeared to be waiting for something. She looked up, confused.

"I uh... can't understand you" She offered, her voice hoarse.

The predator considered her for a moment, then prised her small, cold hands off his arm. Making sure she had her feet, he began to stalk towards the doorway. As he reached it, he turned to face her and beckoned with one claw. Then he disappeared around the corner. Dantia gave a lopsided smirk, _'What a fine situation you've gotten yourself into, and it looks like your only option is to play along.' _

Gathering her willpower, she took a few shaky steps forward, and then paused as a wave of dizziness washed over her. After a couple of seconds, she managed to take the last few steps to the doorway and grasped the cold metal frame for support. Peering round in the direction the predator had gone, she discovered a long, barren-looking metal corridor. She frowned. Where the hell was she?

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Stepping outside the room she'd been in, her boots hit metal grid flooring. Turning the way the predator had gone, she ran one hand along the wall to steady herself as she walked slowly towards the next door, even though it hurt like hell. She glanced up as she passed underneath a light. It reminded her of the mood lighting she'd been coveting. It was a smooth round pebble shape, opaque white and giving off a soft glow. Looking ahead, she could see that there were several more of them dotted along the walls. She couldn't help smiling faintly as a random thought flitted across her fuzzy mind _'Looks like we have a trendy predator'._

Reaching her destination, Dantia peeped through the doorway. As she did so, the predator stepped out of the room. He gestured for her to enter, and she did so, unwilling to provoke him. Turning back around, she saw him touch something outside on the wall, and the door slid closed, effectively sealing her in.

_'Well, there goes any chance of escape.'_ She thought wryly, and and proceeded to study the room she was in. It appeared to be a bedroom of some sort. In one corner was a rather large bed, heaped with luxurious fur skins. In her current state it looked like pure heaven, and she was already itching to snuggle up in it and hibernate her way into the next millenia. There were some storage crates over to her right, bundled up against the wall. Apart from those and the bed, the room was somewhat bare. Heading towards the large pile of furs, she walked over a considerably large fur rug. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dantia carefully kicked off her boots and shoved them over to one side with her foot. She briefly contemplated stripping down to her underwear but decided against it, glancing over at the door.

Dantia leaned back into the furs with a heavy sigh, swinging her legs up and onto the bed. She managed to pull a fur over her, grimacing as pain stabbed through her arm, before she slipped into the welcome embrace of sleep.

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In the opposite room, Mor'che was sitting on the edge of his bed, furiously scrubbing away at his beloved mask. His mind was swirling as he chewed over what he had just done. Even putting her in the spare room! After a few minutes of muttering to himself about being a stupid little pauk-de, he decided what to about the little Ooman.

Nodding to himself in satisfaction, Mor'che held up his shiny clean mask._'Much better.'_ Leaving it on his bed, he stalked over towards the back of his room and stabbed a button on the wall. A near-invisible door slid upwards to reveal a large bathroom with a brimming, steamy tub. Grinning to himself, he stepped in and the door slid shut behind him.

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_**Thats it! Hope you liked.**_

_**Please R&R!**_

_**Thanks to Sonsasu The Winter Dragon, StormRaven333, Devil-Speaker, GracefulWhiteDragon, blood shifter, Breezy411, NajaMoonshadow, The Oracle Dragon, RocknKitty, Echo21, The Creeper & Opera-Gypsy for all my reviews so far.**_

_**Also, thanks again to Sonsasu for beta-ing for me )**_


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